


Primal Appetites

by Cinlat



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Fallen Empire, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, Game Spoilers, Give the girls some love, I Don't Even Know, I never say no to a dare, Interspecies Relationship(s), Knights of the Fallen Empire Spoilers, Midway through KotFE timeline, Oral Sex, Roughness, Who knew Jorgan was so patient, just for fun, pain and pleasure, seemed like a good idea at the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 08:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8525440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinlat/pseuds/Cinlat
Summary: Fynta's back hit the bulkhead hard enough to force the air from her lungs. Jorgan’s teeth were on her neck immediately, trailing small nips across her shoulder, steadily increasing in strength the lower he went.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from, I just went with it and this is what happened. It was fun though.

**The Thunderclap  
** **3631 BBY**  

Fynta's back hit the bulkhead hard enough to force the air from her lungs. Jorgan’s teeth were on her neck immediately, trailing small nips across her shoulder, steadily increasing in strength the lower he went. Fynta couldn't breathe, but it had nothing to do with the weight crushing her against the wall. Both wrists were held firmly in one of Jorgan’s hands, while the other slid her shirt up. 

“Damn, you feel good,” Jorgan whispered huskily, sending shivers down Fynta’s spine. He chuckled, and tightened his grip on her wrists, making her gasp. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Fynta knew she should be intimidated. She’d never seen Jorgan this out of control, but the way he snarled her name woke something primal inside her, and all she wanted was more. 

“Stop messing around,” Fynta panted. The only thing she wanted was their clothing gone, and his weight pinning her to the bed. 

Hooking her left heel around the small of Aric’s back, Fynta tried to pull him closer, positioning him for better friction. He grabbed her thigh roughly, and bit down on her shoulder. “No,” the Cathar rumbled deep in his chest, squeezing the muscle hard enough to make Fynta yelp. She bucked her hips in defiance. 

Jorgan’s lips covered hers, pushing her head into the unforgiving metal and she growled in response. A shudder rushed through him and he answered with his teeth scraping painfully again her lips, producing a coppery tang. Fynta didn't care, her head swam with an animalistic drive to claim him as her own. 

Steadily, Jorgan loosened his grasp on her leg to slide his hand higher. Pushing the material of her fibermesh bodysuit out of the way to brush his thumb across the sensitive skin where leg met pelvis. Again, Fynta bucked her hips, but Jorgan pinned her with his weight, restricting any further movement. 

“No,” he repeated in a gravelly voice that sent an electric jolt directly to her brain. 

Tipping her head back to offer her husband more access, Fynta couldn't help but notice the dark lust that swirled in his eyes. A coy smile pulled at her lips as Jorgan’s hold slipped a fraction. It was enough for her to grind against him, feel effect this sudden fervor had on him. His hand slammed into the wall next to her head as he bit her shoulder again, eliciting a whimper of pleasure. 

Fynta thought she'd finally broken his tenuous hold on self-control when she was suddenly lifted, Jorgan’s hands clamping around her waist. Her breath came in choked gasps, fully giving herself over to his demanding caresses. Jorgan pulling them away from the wall, and Fynta tightened her legs around his waist. 

Lacing her fingers behind Aric’s neck for balance, she covered him with messy kisses, nibbling on his ear while he carried her the few steps to their bed. “I thought they’d never leave,” he said between ragged breaths. Theron and Koth had been insistent about completing preliminary meetings before they were satisfied that the area was secure. All Fynta had wanted was to lock herself in the ship with her husband. 

Fynta lifted her chin so Jorgan could run his tongue down her neck, and words failed her as he tumbled them onto the bed. How long had it been this time? Three months? “Shab,” she hissed as he positioned himself above her, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of her breasts. 

“Too much?” Aric rasped, lifting his head to meet her eyes. Fynta wanted to wipe that concerned look off his face, and replace it with the desire she’d seen moments earlier. 

Placing her hands over his, Fynta squeezed his fingers tighter. She moaned, slurring her words in midst of her need. “‘S not enough. Harder, Aric.” Fynta rocked her hips for emphasis, feeling his erection press against her thigh through the rough material of his under armor. A guttural noise issued from the back of her throat when he pressed against her. 

“Fierfek.” Fynta hissed.  Then his teeth were on her again thumbs tracing circles over her supple skin.   

“Now,” she breathed, desperately clawing his shirt over his head. Aric relented, leaning back to pull hers free as well.  Fynta ran her hands over his stomach. He was older, body knotted and scared from the rough five years that she should have been a part of. Still, he was the sexiest thing she had ever laid eyes on. 

Sitting up, Fynta grabbed Jorgan’s hips and planted firm kisses over his stomach, the soft fur tickling her cheeks. His fingers threaded through her hair, pulling the leather tie loose, and tossing it in the general direction of where their armor was piled. Logic whispered that she’d want that later, but Aric’s needy groan when she tipped her head down made it insignificant. 

Jorgan’s fingers tightened, pulling her hair painfully, and Fynta loved it. She pressed her lips against the bulging fabric and exhaled, enveloping him in her hot breath. He swore, and pulled her head back, pushing her into the mattress to grind against her center. 

Fynta was dizzy with desire as his tongue intertwined with hers. “Damn it, Aric. Get these clothes off,” Fynta ordered, trying to get her hands between their bodies to unfasten his pants. The constricting fabric had to be uncomfortable in his current state. 

Jorgan grabbed Fynta’s wrists and forced them above her head, leaving her to bear his total weight for a few agonizing seconds. “Not yet,” he whispered in her ear as his hands slid down her arms to prop up on his elbows. “Be still,” Jorgan commanded in a voice deepened by lust, and Fynta _wanted_ to obey. 

Surrendering, Fynta lay back on the rumpled sheets, arms still extended above her head. Sliding a hand under her back, Jorgan unclasped her bra and tossed it in the same direction as the hair tie. Fynta grinned as she watched his eyes roam over her breasts. She wanted to touch him, to squeeze his thighs and listen to his breathing quicken as her hands slid up. But she couldn’t, because he’d told her to be still, and Fynta _really_ wanted to know why. 

Snarling deep in his throat, Aric leaned forward and took her nipple into his mouth. Fynta gasped and arched her back, shutting her eyes so that she could focus solely on his touch. His hand behind her pulled up to encourage her closer while the other massaged the breast his mouth left lonely. It had been so long since they’d had this much time and energy to devote to one another, that Fynta almost forgot how shabbing good it felt. “Gedet'ye,” she breathed when he pulled away from her. 

When she opened her eyes again, Jorgan was smirking. “I love when you do that.” 

“Do what?” 

Aric buried his face in her neck, nipping hard enough to draw blood. Then his hand slid between her legs, rubbing against the fabric of her pants. “Haar’chak,” she gasped again, pressing against him harder. 

“That,” he exhaled against her ear. “It isn’t good enough until you can’t speak Basic anymore.” His hand moved up to the snaps of her pants, and Jorgan took his sweet time undoing them. 

“Shabuir,” Fynta snarled when he rolled completely off of her. “You better be getting up to take your pants off.” 

Jorgan put his hands on the mattress to either side of Fynta’s waist and trailed feathery kisses down her stomach, starting at the lightsaber scar just below her ribs. Fynta watched as he hooked his fingers over the top of her pants, tugging them free of her legs. It was thrilling being completely vulnerable to the still half-dressed Cathar.  His eyes took her in, wide with excitement, as his hands worked their way back up her thighs. 

When Jorgan stopped short of his target, Fynta let out a needy groan. “Riduur,” she pleaded, finally moving her hand to grasp his waistband. That word had never failed to spur Jorgan to action, and it didn’t disappoint now. 

Her Cathar mate surged forward, forcing her hand against the headboard alongside the other. “Move again, and I’ll stop,” he warned in a dangerous tone. Fynta glared up into those arrogant eyes. They glowed brightly, mesmerizing her. When Jorgan was satisfied that she wouldn’t disobey, he released her wrist and his lips brushed against her neck, then her shoulder. He paused over each breast before continuing down past her navel. That was when Fynta finally figured out what he was up to. 

* * *

 “Fierfek,” Fynta swore as soon as she felt his breath between her legs. Jorgan smirked, not a single word of Basic since her pants came off, and he had yet to really touch her. 

Breathing deeply, Jorgan savored his wife’s scent, so uniquely hers, so alive. Her legs opened more as he settled on his elbows. For a moment, Aric let his breath tease her while he gazed up at her face. Fynta’s fingers were wrapped around the headboard in anticipation. Her head was tilted to the side, blond hair tangled around her shoulders, and eyes locked on his. 

“Gedet'ye, riduur,” Fynta pleaded in such a longing voice that Jorgan’s will snapped. He locked his mouth over her mound, darting his tongue into her warm depths, savoring the taste within. Fynta cried out and her hips jumped so that Jorgan had to flatten both palms across her abdomen to keep her wild movements from catching his teeth. 

Once she was under his control, Jorgan carefully reached out with his tongue again. Fynta moaned, her hips trying to roll under his hands, but he held them still. She was close, he could tell just by the heat radiating from her core. Their first few attempts at finding the spots where his rough tongue wouldn’t grate against her delicate flesh had been interesting. Now, even after all the years without her, Jorgan still remembered every trigger point on his wife’s body. 

“Aric,” she moaned, muscles tensing beneath his fingers. Jorgan looked up at his wife, moving his own hips unconsciously in time with hers as he picked up the speed of his oral ministrations. Rutting against the side of the bed to ease his own need. Fynta gasped for air, tossing her head wildly from side to side. He watched hungrily, trying not to be distracted by his own burning desire for release. 

Then Fynta’s back arched and Aric growled, letting the vibrations reverberate through his lips and tongue. Fynta came apart before his eyes, breathtaking in the raw power of her orgasm. It took every ounce of concentration he had left to keep his rhythm and hold her down at the same time. Jorgan maintained the pressure until she collapsed onto the mattress, a fit of giddy laughter escaping her lips before she threw the back of her hand over her mouth. 

Aric flicked his tongue playfully over the tender bundle of nerves, and a tremor shot through Fynta’s thighs. He chuckled and kissed his way up her stomach, pausing to trace her abs with his lips. Another shiver wracked her body, until he reached her mouth. Fynta’s stomach rose and fell rapidly against his own as she peered up at him through half lidded eyes. 

“Shab, Aric. Have you always been that good?” She teased. 

He leaned in for a kiss. “You don’t remember?” 

Fynta’s lips were needy as she forced her tongue into his mouth, taking him by surprise. He missed the moment her hand moved, until he felt her fingers graze his hipbone just before they closed around his still throbbing erection. There hadn’t been enough time to stop her, and that pressure alone was so intoxicating that Jorgan almost lost control, thrusting his hips forward. He could feel the smile Fynta pressed against his lips. 

“We need to do something about this,” she said with a throaty purr. Her fingers tightened and Fynta gave a long, slow pull. Jorgan groaned into her mouth, deciding he didn’t care how it happened, he needed release. Just as quickly, Fynta’s hand withdrew and Jorgan ached again. 

“Damn it, Fynta,” he growled. She was grinning at him, clearly pleased with herself. 

“Turn over, major,” Fynta said, pushing against his chest. Jorgan obeyed, watching as she crawled on top of him and began unfastening his pants. “Now it’s my turn.” 

* * *

Jorgan lifted his hips to help Fynta get the pants off completely. Truth be told, she couldn’t believe the Cathar had held on this long. She had held nothing back during the amazing oral session he treated her to, and usually, Aric found that kind of show irresistible. Looking down at him from her position between his knees, Fynta wondered if she should put him out of his misery.  He was incredibly hard, painfully so, and simply putting her hands on his thighs was enough to make his member twitch. 

“How do you want me, sir,” Fynta asked in a coy voice. The original plan had been to return the favor; to take him into her mouth, but as she swirled her thumb over the head, it became obvious that he wouldn’t last long either way. She wanted to make it as enjoyable as possible. 

Aric considered her, then grabbed her hips and pulled her forward. “I want to feel you,” he answered, no longer wasting time with teasing. 

His fingers dug into Fynta’s hips as he thrust upward, violently; burying himself completely. Fynta cried out from the mingled pain and pleasure. Aric’s answering oath found him sitting up, driving into her repeatedly as he simultaneously jerked her down to meet him with one arm around her waist.  Fynta held onto his shoulders, fighting for each breath. Jorgan gave one, final thrust and snarled into her sternum as he spent himself inside her. Fynta held him tightly, rocking her hips to draw his pleasure out as long as possible. 

The Cathar flopped back onto the bed, arms out to the side, gasping for air. “Shit.” 

Fynta burst out laughing, propping on his chest with her chin in her hands. “Aric Jorgan, I can’t believe you kissed me with that mouth,” she teased.  He’d never been one for swearing, meaning it must have been a really good one.

“I do more than that with this mouth,” he countered, pulling her to his chest. 

Fynta chuckled and snuggled against him. Tomorrow, she would don the mantle of commander again, and inspect the outcast’s camp on Zakuul. For now, she was happy to fall asleep in her husband’s arms. Content, and thoroughly satisfied.


End file.
